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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202360">love in the time of quarantine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish'>sharkfish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Fluff, Hilarious jokes, M/M, Marijuana, Quarantine, Recreational Drug Use, References to COVID, Strangers to Lovers, Trans Castiel (Supernatural), Trans Male Character, Transgender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:07:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202360</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean says, “We should have sex.” </p><p>Cas chokes and looks up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.” </p><p><i>“We should have sex,”</i> Dean repeats, carefully enunciating each word. Cas keeps staring at him blankly. “It’s fun and you’re hot. Perfect quarantivity.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>730</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>love in the time of quarantine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>thanks to <a href="https://captainhaterade.tumblr.com/">captainhaterade</a> for assistance in making this coherent. </p><p>i wonder what future generations of fans will think about all of these quarantine fics.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cas opens his door, and his neighbor is on the other side with a backpack over his shoulder, looking sheepish. “Hello,” Cas says, a little stunned. He and Dean have only spoken a few times when delivering packages Amazon left on the wrong side of their duplex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know this is totally nuts,” Dean says, “since we don’t really know each other. But my roommate is a goddamn idiot and kicked me out of the house because I sneezed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not even a symptom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, dude. It’s just the pollen, you know how it is.” Dean gives Cas a smile, then ducks his head down. Cas wonders if Dean’s good looks make him cocky, but he’s self-aware enough to know he would love to have Dean in his bed either way. “Anyway. Totally nuts, but can I crash on your couch for a couple of days? I swear I’ve been good. Wearing gloves to the store and everything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve been good. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cas hopes Dean doesn’t notice the way his eyes sweep down Dean’s body. On one hand, if Dean is an asshole, Cas will be stuck with him for a while. On the other, Dean has always seemed nice, and once he answered the door in unicorn pajama pants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re nuts and I’ve apparently lost my marbles, so come in,” Cas says, opening the door all the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank god,” Dean says, giving Cas a grateful smile. “I could hang out in my car for a few days, but it’s not particularly fun.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shoves off his unlaced boots just inside the door, then lines them up next to Cas’s shoes. There’s really too many: running shoes he spent way too much on; black combat boots; identical pairs of brogues in both black and brown; high-top Chucks in pastel blue and pink. Dean’s eyes catch on them, and Cas braces himself. Just in case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy fuck, where did you get those? I have a friend who would kill for a pair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas lets out a breath. “Converse had a thing during pride month where you could design your own.” Suddenly realizing he hasn’t invited Dean all the way into the house, he says, “Feel free to put your backpack wherever, but I’d appreciate if you washed your hands first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir,” Dean says with a smirky salute. Cas trails after him to the kitchen where Dean scrubs longer than necessary halfway up his forearms. Cas follows after with a Lysol wipe to the soap pump and spigot Dean touched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I get you some water? Beer?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beer would be awesome. And —” Dean lowers his voice, like a secret between them — “I have a full bottle of whiskey in my bag. I didn’t want to risk it if liquor stores are deemed non-essential.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nods, sagely. “That’s very wise. I have weed to contribute to our quarantine party.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shoulda come to visit a while ago,” Dean says, and the teasing tone in his voice seems almost flirtatious. Cas brushes it off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They each bring a beer and an empty glass for whiskey to the couch. Dean pours them a couple of fingers while Cas packs two pipes, his freshly clean back-up pipe for Dean and the pink one he usually uses for himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheers,” Dean says, holding out his pipe. “Here’s to shelter-in-placeing with a really cool and cu— what the fuck is that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Cas says, looking over at the shelves over the tv that are full of the skulls of various species. “I’m an paleontology professor. I like bones.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean takes a long drag from his pipe, then gets up to closer inspect the shelves. “Is all this shit real?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mostly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean takes another hit, and Cas hurries to catch up. “I figured you were a nerd. You must be pretty smart.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps,” Cas says, tilting his head, then immediately straightening again when he remembers he’s trying to train himself out of that gesture. “That depends on your definition of ‘smart.’” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a professor and shit. I’m just an average idiot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I find that doubtful. What do you do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Airbrushing,” Dean says. He leaves behind the skulls to sit on the couch again, closer to Cas than before, and Cas thinks vaguely that Dean isn’t very good at social distancing. “Mostly cars. I got to do a guy’s prosthetic leg once though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas is sinking into the cushions, drifting and smiling. Dean smiles goofily back, and Cas wants to kiss him. Not even a real kiss, just the kind where you mostly giggle against each other’s mouths. For a second, he imagines he sees that urge on Dean’s face, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re an artist,” Cas says, finally. “Do you have pictures of your work?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone. Cas leans over to see the screen as Dean scrolls through pictures. Dean’s not just an artist but an </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing </span>
  </em>
  <span>artist, but he shrugs it off every time Cas repeats it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s more drink and more smoke and they slump against each other in the middle of the couch watching Indiana Jones. Dean says more than once how hot Harrison Ford is, which strikes Cas as unnecessarily conspicuous, but he decides not to call it out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas wakes up early like always, but Dean’s already beat him to the coffee machine and is standing in the kitchen watching it brew, drop by drop. He’s in a worn-soft AC/DC tee and Batman boxers. The fitted kind, not exactly obscene, but hugging the planes and curves of him in a way that makes Cas’s mouth dry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It just, uh,” Dean says, flushing, “occurred to me that I’m not wearing pants.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen men in underwear before. I’m not a blushing maiden.” Cas joins him in watching the coffee pot, leaning against the counter opposite it. “I would’ve expected Captain America, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean flashes him a grin. “I can have inappropriate feelings for as many superheroes as I want, thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas laughs, still a little hoarse from sleep, and Dean bumps their shoulders together. And that’s how it goes, just easy together, through coffee and breakfast and a couple joints and slumping together on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas had planned to spend the beginning of this thing reworking his summer classes to work long-distance, but he doesn’t do much of it the first few days because it’s just too much fun to hang out with Dean. He’s soft, goofy, kind, intelligent, and they mostly understand each other’s jokes, as long as Dean’s aren’t about Star Wars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s day four, the sun starting to set, the two of them stretched out on the couch, facing each other with legs touching from ankle to hip. It’s at the point when they don’t feel the need to keep each other entertained and instead are both on their phones, some cooking show in the background. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They haven’t spoken in a long while when Dean says, “We should have sex.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas chokes and looks up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We should have sex,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean repeats, carefully enunciating each word. Cas keeps staring at him blankly. “It’s fun and you’re hot. Perfect quarantivity.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas snorts and his finger quotes come out, despite his attempts to bury it. “‘Quarantivity’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charlie passed on that stupid portmanteau.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I’m trans, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The shoes are pretty obvious. And that magnet on your fridge,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas thinks about it, head tilted. He’s not even sure what there is to think about: Dean is gorgeous and Cas has wanted him in his bed since they first spoke. Games and tv are going to get boring fast, so this truly is another great “quarantivity” to fill their days. And it’s been too long since the last time Cas was intimate with someone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” he says. “Let’s have sex.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grins. “Are you cool with kissing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love kissing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean crawls over Cas and straddles his hips. His weight makes something flutter inside Cas. This is something he likes about men more than women — that strong, stocky weight, covering him fully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean hesitates just before their mouths touch, leaving Cas to close the distance between them. Dean tastes of chocolate and sweetness, his lips soft. There’s a lot Cas wants to savor and there’s plenty of time, so he’s glad that Dean lets him take it slow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas explores slowly while they kiss, his hands running — over Dean’s shirt — up his back to feel the flex of his muscles. Cas likes the way Dean’s body feels, strong in some places and softer in others, like a man who works with his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean hums into the kiss when Cas gets his hands on bare skin and then shivers when Cas’s fingers graze past one of his nipples. Dean breaks the kiss and says, “You gonna take me to bed or just ravish me on the couch like a common whore?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would say you’re a very </span>
  <em>
    <span>uncommon </span>
  </em>
  <span>whore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean laughs so hard he almost falls off the couch. “What does that get me? The floor?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That, or the bed, if you prefer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stands up, reaching to adjust himself and blushing when Cas watches. “I like kissing you,” Dean says, like he needs an excuse for his arousal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t see it, but me too,” Cas says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean follows barely a step behind Cas to the bedroom, and as soon as they’re close enough, Cas turns and shoves Dean into the bed on his back and climbs in after him, fitting between his thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m, uh,” Dean says, a little hoarse, “kinda into that type of thing. The pushing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. I like it too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sits back on his heels to pull off his t-shirt and they both work to get Dean out of his. Cas takes a moment just to look, taking in the dark pink of Dean’s mouth from being kissed, the flush creeping down his chest, his soft stomach, his hard cock barely concealed under thin sweatpants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re ridiculously gorgeous,” Cas says. “I’m sure you know that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blushes again. “C’mon, man. Kiss me or something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas loves the way their day-or-two-unshaven scruff scratches together, and he imagines what Dean’s would feel like on the inside of his thighs. Dean’s kisses are sweet and unhurried, broken by a gasp when Cas rubs the palm of his hand against Dean’s cock. Cas tilts his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down. “Do you like topping?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure. Either way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fantastic.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Dean says, more a gasp than anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas hums an agreement and sits back to start working Dean’s pants off. Cas likes dicks — the way they look, the way they feel in his mouth or hands or holes, even the biting bitter of come — and the tingle of arousal in his stomach strengthens just from the reveal of Dean’s. He wraps his hand around it, swipes his thumb over the flushed head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shudders and says, “For the record, I haven’t had sex in a long time and haven’t even jerked off since I’ve been here. So I’m, you know. A little revved up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t jerked off? Even in the shower?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really into showers for that kind of thing. Plus it feels kinda weird — “ Dean’s voice cuts off and his stomach muscles jump when Cas starts to stroke him, “— doing that in someone else’s house.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas backs off the bed to pull Dean’s pants off his legs, then sheds his own. Dean has a garish scar on one knee. “You have my permission to masturbate in the shower.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t respond, and probably didn’t hear Cas at all, the way he’s staring. Staring at Cas, naked in front of him. Cas goes cold inside but tries to hide it under a stern tone of voice. “Dean, you’re staring.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Dean says, his eyes traveling upwards, slowly, to meet Cas’s. “I said it’s been awhile, but it’s been way longer since I even got to see someone as hot as you naked.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas snorts. “I already agreed to sleep with you. No reason to butter me up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Butter-free. I’m just sappy when I’m high.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas grabs lube and a strip of condoms from the drawer, then climbs back in bed to straddle Dean’s hips. Like before on the couch, just grinding and kissing, except this time Cas can feel the silken heat of Dean’s cock underneath him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re hot,” Dean says, in between kisses, “and real fuckin’ cool, and smart, and I really — really want to finger you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas passes over the lube, Dean slicks up his fingers, and then Cas guides his hand around him so he feels the tease of slick fingertips against his ass. Dean reaches further and this time Cas feels the gentle press of them against his hole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas leans down to kiss him but Dean holds back, just biting his lip and watching Cas’s face instead as he barely pushes inside, easing Cas open slowly and carefully. Cas watches back, except when his eyes flutter closed at a particularly good stroke of Dean’s fingers. It makes Cas’s wanting sharper, and he grabs a condom, forcing Dean to stop when he adjusts to slide it over Dean’s cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like this? Or would you rather —” Dean’s question is answered by Cas lowering himself to take just the head of his cock in. Cas hasn’t done this in awhile, taking something in this hole, and he takes a moment just to remember how it feels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s hands clench around Cas’s hips as Cas takes the rest of him in shallow thrusts. “Holy fuck,” Dean says, watching where they’re joined as Cas starts to fuck himself on Dean’s cock. “This is the best idea I’ve ever had.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’s movements stutter as he laughs, and Dean grins in response. “You make it difficult to maintain a sexy mood.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sexy, so there’s the mood.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss Dean, tugging softly at his hair. Dean moans, and Cas isn’t sure if it’s from the hair pulling or the change in angle, so he repeats both, hoping to hear that noise again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That specific noise stops mattering, because it’s one of a thousand Dean makes as Cas rides him, steady and deep, mouths close, Cas’s toes curling as pleasure builds between them. Dean responds to each changing touch with desperate need and Cas wants to touch him </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s head tilts back — and that’s good, because he likes the scrape of Cas’s teeth down his throat — and he manages to say, “I’m getting close — I want — can I touch you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nods and has to sit up for Dean’s hand to slide between them. Dean rubs in a circle over Cas’s cock, making his hips stutter and then still to enjoy this first touch, the delicious blue-hot rising inside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Dean says, soft, eyes drifting from where he’s touching Cas in a slow trek up his body to his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nods, biting his lip as he presses into Dean’s touch, rides his cock, bites fingernails into his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ,” Dean gasps, and then he comes hard and pulsing, hips rising to get as deep into Cas as he can. Something about seeing his partner’s pleasure really does it for Cas, and Dean’s cock feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Cas trembles his way through an orgasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pant together while Cas enjoys the last echoes of lightning-hot passing through him. It doesn’t help that Dean is still stroking him, slow and gentle, but Cas finally manages to climb off of him. “Do you like cuddling?” Cas asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Total cuddleslut,” Dean says, and snuggles himself into Cas’s arms after getting rid of the condom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas kisses Dean and Dean kisses back, just the kind of kisses you share when you’re sated and still touching. Cas’s hands are aimless, running his fingertips along the delicate curve of Dean’s ear, along his increasingly-scruffy jaw, along the veins on his bicep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just so you know,” Dean says, “when the government says we can eat ass again, I’m all over that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Cas says, throwing an arm over his face to muffle his laughter. “You are rude and uncouth.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never claimed I wasn’t.” When Cas peeks, Dean’s grin is bright and beautiful. “Hang tight, I’ll grab beer and weed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looks down at himself while he waits. He feels most connected to his body during sex and most disconnected right after, when his brain catches up and reminds him that in a better world, that all would’ve gone a little differently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas shakes it off just in time for Dean to rejoin him. After a few episodes of Parks &amp; Rec, Dean gets up for a shower, says goodnight, and sleeps in the guest bedroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean was right: sex is the best quarantivity. Dean is amazing with his hands, cock, and — once they’ve decided it’s probably too late to worry about it, despite what the government says — mouth. Cas doesn’t remember the last time he had sex this good, much less this often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t have to say it. Just the raise of an eyebrow, and they’re back in Cas’s bed, fumbling and laughing. Nothing else has changed, other than the increasingly alarming news from NPR about the world falling apart outside their little bunker of hedonism. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s day eight. It’s cold and rainy but they keep the windows open for the tiniest bit of fresh air until they can actually go into the yard again. Cas is finally working on his classes and Dean is sketching a lot. They take turns choosing music, and though Dean continues complaining about Cas’s, Cas catches him humming along a few times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Dean kisses him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ve kissed plenty over the four days prior, but this is different. Dean says, “Want more coffee?” and Cas says yes and Dean pauses on the way to the kitchen to lean down and give Cas a quick kiss, and Cas is too surprised to even react. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grimaces as he sits down sits down next to Cas, passing a mug over. “Sorry about that,” he says. “The kiss.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas tilts his head. He hasn’t thought about all the gestures he’s been trying to train himself out of all week. “Why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I — I dunno if you want to touch me like that. When it’s not a sex thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stares at him for a long moment. “Really?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I think so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a really big crush on you,” Dean says, the prettiest pink blush rising in his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I used to watch you mow your yard,” Cas says. He would sit at the kitchen table, where he rarely worked otherwise, just to see Dean walk back and forth with his mower. He never mowed shirtless so it’s not like Cas was ogling exactly — he just tingled to get a sight of Dean, like a teenager sneaking glances at a cute boy in class. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a creep,” Dean says, but a smile is growing on his mouth. “See somethin’ you liked?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer is yes, because every now and then Dean would pause to do a little jig as he lip-synced along to the music in his headphones, and those were the moments when Cas told himself he should go out and say hi. Stupidly, he never did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mostly I just wondered if you own multiple shirts. I only saw you in the AC/DC one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean laughs and says, “Baby, that’s the shirt I always wear to do yardwork.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen at least three shirts this week, so that brings your total up to four. Still not great, unless you do laundry really often.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It kinda turns me on when you make fun of me,” Dean says, and within a minute they’re in Cas’s room for the first time that day, fumbling and laughing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rain lets up and they both go for a run, sprinting down the block in a couple races that Cas wins. Dean isn’t a runner and not in any kind of shape to do much more, so Cas leaves him on the back porch to go for a real run. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas is also out of shape after a week without really any physical activity other than yoga and sex, but the joy of it keeps him going. The asphalt is shiny with rain, and he splashes through puddles where there’s no drainage. He runs in a circular path through the neighborhood, then slows to a walk for the last half-mile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s drizzling again by the time he makes it home, and Dean is waiting for him with a kiss and a towel. “I’m about to get started on dinner,” Dean says. “Don’t come out of your room until I say.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas arches an eyebrow even as he’s rubbing fruitlessly at his hair with the towel. “Should I be worried?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is there to worry about?” Dean says with a cheeky smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. If I hear anything strange, I’m coming out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing strange is happening, pinky swear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas kisses him, even though he knows his mouth is still cold, and goes to quarantine himself in a room inside of the quarantine house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas settles in to work, and this kind of Dean-free uninterrupted time should be an opportunity to actually be productive for once, but it’s not worth much when his thoughts keep straying to what the hell Dean is doing out there for so long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>FInally he actually smells food. The mouthwatering smell of good bacon, followed soon after by the less pungent — but still tantalizing — scent of burgers grilling. This is his favorite meal that Dean has made so far, and it feels like just another good thing in a pretty good day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean peeks into Cas’s room and says, “If you don’t want to go on a date with me, this is just dinner between bros, ok?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a dress code for this date?” Cas asks. Just seeing Dean makes a grin spread across his face. It’s pathetic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those reading glasses are pretty cute, but whatever. Come get some food.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kitchen light is the only one on, other than the dim lights showing through the blanket fort in the living room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blanket fort, far more artfully constructed than the ones from Cas’s childhood. His parents didn’t like that kind of thing anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looks sheepish. “I saw it on Pinterest so it must be romantic, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas laughs and throws his arms around Dean’s neck. “Very, very romantic.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t need Pinterest to know that burgers are romantic,” Dean says, crowding Cas backwards until he bumps against the kitchen counter. They get distracted with kissing for a moment, then Dean pulls away and gestures to the spread on the counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They crawl into the fort with plates piled high. Cas didn’t realize he owned so many damn pillows and blankets, but he recognizes most of them. The flameless candles spread around for a dim glow of light came from a box of Halloween decorations in the garage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been snooping,” Cas says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe, but not in a creepy way.” Dean flashes him a grin and hands over a loaded pipe. “You own a freakish amount of sheets, by the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I’ve needed to change them often in the past.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations,” Dean says, and they cheers each other with their beers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They eat and drink and pass the pipe back and forth, mostly in silence other than the music murmuring out of a well-disguised speaker. Dean takes the plates when they’re done, and Cas lays out among the blankets and pillows — his feet stick out of the fort entrance — and listens to the sink running. Rinsing dishes, washing hands. He’s stoned and happy and aching to touch Dean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean crawls over Cas’s legs and into the tent to lay down shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Without looking away from the flicker of fake flames on the sheets above them, Cas’s hand finds Dean’s. They’re quiet for awhile as smudged flashes of sense memory wander through Cas’s mind — remembering a kiss, remembering a touch. Remembering a certain type of smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns his head to look at Dean, who he finds already looking back. “Hey,” Dean says quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Cas says back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean turns to his side to face Cas fully. “You should kiss me now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time gets hazy after the first kiss, lost in the feel of Dean’s mouth against his, the stubble under his fingertips, the socked foot sliding up his ankle. Dean inspires a whirlwind of feelings, both emotional and physical, and Cas is starting to think about what he’ll do to Dean once the languid kisses meander around to clothes coming off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to tell me if I mess up,” Dean says, the words tumbling out before the kiss is truly broken. “With the trans thing. I don’t want to fuck this up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘The trans thing,’” Cas repeats while adding air quotes, because it’s the first thing that makes it through the smoke in his brain, and it sends him into giggles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit, Cas, you know what I mean,” Dean says, but then he’s laughing, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas manages to get his laughter under control and says, gravely, “Yes. The trans thing. I’ll ‘call you out,’ as the kids say.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a good thing the candles are fake, because Dean knocks over several as he grabs a pillow and whaps Cas with it. “People our age say that, asshole.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas wrenches the pillow away from Dean and, unexpectedly graceful for his state of inebriation, pins Dean on his back, holding his wrists above his head. Somehow they’re lucky enough that Cas doesn’t pull the entire structure down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean makes a little squeaking noise, eyes wide, and it makes Cas laugh again and Dean rolls his eyes good-naturedly, though Cas can plainly feel how hard he is. He can feel Dean’s pulse racing where he’s holding his hands down, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You gonna stare at me all night, or did I woo you enough to get into your pants?” Dean asks, grinning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With your Pinterest date? Hardly.” </span>
</p><p><span>“You don’t understand,” Dean says, his pout subtle enough to be irresistible instead of obnoxious.  “I went </span><em><span>on Pinterest</span></em><span> for you.</span> <span>I made sacrifices.” </span></p><p>
  <span>Cas traces a line between the few freckles Dean has on his neck. Goosebumps shiver over Dean’s arms as he does it. “The dedication is appreciated. What were you planning on doing in my pants?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hadn’t really thought that far,” Dean says, but he blushes enough to be seen in the dim light from the scattered candles. Combining that with the way Dean’s eyes dart away, Cas knows what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been thinking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean says it doesn’t matter and there’s no reason for anyone to be embarrassed about it, but he’s still ashamed — at least a little bit — about how much he loves being fucked. Fingers, vibrators, and Cas’s strap-on made him come so hard that his thighs shook afterwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Cas says, letting go of Dean’s wrists to touch his chest, giving a gentle pinch to one of his nipples through his shirt. “What you really want is for me to get into </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> pants.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. If you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. I’m afraid this fort is coming down if I try here, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sits up on an elbow and pulls Cas down into a kiss with the other arm, then shoves at him. “Bed. Go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In bed, Cas fingers Dean so good that it takes only a few strokes of his cock before he comes with a choked noise like a sob. Dean sucks Cas’s cock and drapes himself over Cas’s chest afterwards, both their breaths and heartbeats aligning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, you asshole,” Dean says, startling Cas out of his bone-deep relaxation. “You made me jizz on the sheets. I used all the clean ones for the fort.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s day whatever, but at least the weather is letting them run and spend the afternoons on the porch. Dean’s eyes are even more stunning in the sunlight. Cas gave up on working, and they order a Playstation from Amazon. Despite a game console being blatantly non-essential, it arrives the next day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think it’s fucked up,” Cas says, exhaling smoke into a night so clear and bright that he can watch it float into the sky, “that we can’t figure out how to entertain ourselves when there’s no job to overwork ourselves with? This society doesn’t even know how to play anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we’ve played,” Dean says with a cheeky grin. “I was there. It was fun as hell.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas laughs and throws an M&amp;M at him. After a barely-avoided munchie disaster the week before, they’re making sure to keep plenty of snacks around. “Spending most of our time working just so we can earn the right to live is fucked up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully we can escape this capitalist prison before we die.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully,” Cas agrees. This is a moment when a morbid thought sneaks in, a feeling of doom, the thing that keeps them both awake some nights, holding each other tight and choosing not to voice their worst fears. He reminds himself that dwelling on it changes nothing. He reminds himself that he can’t spiral down into his own personal doom over things that can’t yet be seen. He reminds himself that there are still more moments of joy than morbidity, if only because he’s with Dean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean reaches the scant distance between their wrought iron chairs and squeezes Cas’s arm. “If you’d rather spend less time working, I will offer, just this once, to be your sugar daddy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas snorts and passes the joint. “We live in the same shitty duplex, except you have a roommate. How are you going to provide a lavish lifestyle for me on that budget?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m secretly rich. I was doing one of those documentaries like ‘30 days of being a broke person’ and then was quarantined. Best thing that ever happened to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so full of shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously. A lot of awesome stuff has happened to me and I can’t exactly rank it. But if it weren’t for the fact that the world is ending, being stuck with you has been pretty good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiles. He feels more touched than the moment probably merits, but it’s still nice to feel that glow. “Yes. When you knocked on my door I was afraid you might have the virus and/or be a serial killer, but now it seems more likely we’ll murder each other out of annoyance and not sick pleasure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. I was ready to go nuclear over the sock thing yesterday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The sock thing is over and we agreed not to talk about it again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quarantine has left the honeymoon phase,” Dean says, his grin a little too easy as the smoke sinks into his system. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We won’t even like each other by the time this is over with.” Cas winces as it comes out, because that’s one of those dark thoughts he would like to avoid, just localized to his own little world, but it’s out there on the night breeze now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quietly, Dean says, “I hope not.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s day whatever, but later than the last one. Dean texts a friend saying to let him know when they can leave their houses again, and they stop checking the news all together unless they’re going outside of their quarantine bubble. Instead, they try to keep themselves enthused while catching up on a lifetime’s worth of “I’ll check it out later” books, movies, tv, podcasts, and games, but sometimes it’s hard to get enthused about anything, even orgasms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes they just lay on the grass and look at the sky. Cas never expected to feel this cut off from humanity while light pollution still erases most of the stars. There are people living on either side of them and there are people at the grocery store and people still posting videos of clever quarantine shenanigans on YouTube, but it feels like Cas and Dean are the last people left on earth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas is in love with Dean. When he looks at the calendar and sees how long it’s been since they had their first real conversation, it seems absurd. Love doesn’t sneak in so quickly, or at least that’s what he would have said a few months ago, but once he read a study that indicated all it takes to fall in love, even with a stranger, is to stare into each others eye’s for half an hour. Maybe they haven’t done that, but they’ve spent what feels like a thousand years in each other’s company non-stop, and that must count for something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t think about how the little life they’re building together has an expiration date, even if it’s not known quite yet. Someday the country will walk out into the sun again, and Dean’s idiot roommate will let him back inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas thought Dean was already asleep until he whispers, “Hey, Cas?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re, uh. Gonna let me take you on a real date when this is over, right? Or…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas unconsciously squeezes him closer. “Will it be better than the Pinterest one? You set a high bar.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise to do my best.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have exactly one chance to impress me,” Cas says, smiling into the dark. “One.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” Dean says, lifting his head to leave a smacking kiss on Cas’s cheek. “You already like me. A bad date won’t scare you off.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got me there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nuzzles into Cas’s neck, somehow managing to create more points of contact. “How many people do you think hooked up during this thing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many people </span>
  <em>
    <span>broke up</span>
  </em>
  <span> during this thing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, baby. Don’t jinx my seduction techniques.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas snorts but can’t hold down his smile. “I think you should get some rest because I expect to be seduced in the morning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah,” Dean says. “Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean drops into sleep within minutes, but Cas stays awake, looking into the blank dark and running his fingers through Dean’s hair. Maybe there’s not an expiration date after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas wakes up slowly, eased into consciousness by Dean’s touch, a hand low on Cas’s belly as Dean teases one of Cas’s nipples with his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Dean murmurs, rough from sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Cas replies. It’s the best he can do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I?” Dean says, his hand sliding a little lower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas opens his legs in response and decides this hazy half-sleep with Dean’s hands on him is something like heaven. Dean pushes the sheets off of them and goosebumps scatter across Cas’s body at the rush of cool air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanna go down on you,” Dean says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas is momentarily distracted by Dean’s fingers wandering lower, just the tease of two fingertips slipping into him. “Maybe,” he says, and then is distracted again as Dean’s fingers push a little deeper, just enough to barely thrust, “you should fuck me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean takes a sharp breath and Cas can distinctly feel the twitch of Dean’s hardening cock against his hip. “Yeah,” he says, and Cas doesn’t have to open his eyes to picture the grin on Dean’s face, “maybe I should.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop teasing me.” Cas tries to say it sternly, the tone that makes Dean flush and bite his lip, but it comes out petulant instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean kisses him and Cas lets himself be kissed. When they part, Cas blinks his eyes open to watch the lovely stretch of the muscles in Dean’s back as he grabs the lube and a condom from the nightstand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean fumbles himself between Cas’s legs and slips on the condom. He kisses Cas again, languid and sweet, but he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything, despite his cock hard between them. “Dean,” Cas murmurs into Dean’s mouth, “put your cock in me some time before quarantine ends, please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such an asshole,” Dean says, even though his smile says something different. “What we were doing before…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean slides in slow but all at once, making Cas’s knees tighten around him and toes curl. “God, you feel good,” Dean says, murmured against Cas’s ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm,” Cas moans instead of responding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something different about sex that includes intimacy. Some extra chemical blooming in his brain. And it’s even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>when Dean stops letting Cas have control just do he can fuck Cas slow and sensual, whisper praise the way Cas usually does to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so fucking sexy, and I —oh, fuck,” he ends with a gasp as Cas’s fingertips brush against his hole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas doesn’t usually come just from fucking, but Dean can get him so close it takes nothing at all to come with fingers on his cock. “Touch me,” Cas says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean leans back so he can get a hand between them and says, in the same sultry tone as his praise, “You can pretend I’m Leo.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas bursts into laughter, nearly knocking Dean to the side, and Dean smiles smugly from above him, as if he’s proud to make Cas laugh. “Jesus, Dean, I was about to come!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You,” Cas says, pushing himself up on his hands to be almost level with Dean, “should be punished.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean flushes and bites his lip. “What kind of punishment?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll think about it after you finish fucking me. No more jokes about my childhood crushes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sex with shared giggles is pretty good, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s day whatever, to the point where they decide their quarantine “dates” count as real dates since they don’t know when they’ll want to go to a restaurant again. But Cas has finally gotten the hang of teaching through video, and Dean’s boss gives in to letting him work, but warns him not to tell any of his coworkers or they’ll all be asking to come back too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things could be better, but they could also be a lot worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It might be Monday or it might be Thursday, and they walk out into the back yard to see bluebonnets popping up among the grass, vibrant green from all the rain. There have never been flowers in their yards before, but everywhere things are blooming and birds are singing, unimpeded by the threat of human presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Dean says, taking a hit off the joint Cas passes him. “I guess life, uh… finds a way.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="http://sharkfish.tumblr.com">sharkfish on tumblr</a>
</p><p>
  <a href="https://sharkfish.tumblr.com/post/618208314236502016/love-in-the-time-of-quarantine-on-ao3-featuring">rebloggable tumblr post</a>
</p><p>i'm sorry i'm so terrible at answering comments, but please know that every single one is so precious to me and keeps me going on the rough days. &lt;3 thank you for being here!! </p><p>ps - stay safe out there.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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